Banshee's Blood
by Freya Ishtar
Summary: After rescuing Henry, a twist of fate connects the Nemeton to a portal in the fairy tale world, dragging Emma, Snow & Henry to Beacon Hills as it throws Lydia & Allison into the Enchanted Forest. Lydia & Allison must trust a villain out of a children's story, while Emma & Snow struggle with once more trusting strangers if they're to return to a magically hidden Storybrooke.


Author's Note: Just . . . don't ask, okay—this is a plunnie born from watching _Once Upon a Time_ while updating a _Teen Wolf_ fanfic.

The Beacon Hills pack has been aged up 2 years for story purposes, nothing else has been changed. On a personal note, you all know I'm a Derek & Lydia shipper, I also strongly favor Emma & Hook, but for some reason, the featured cross-ship of this fic didn't feel like I was betraying either of those pairings.

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DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Story created for entertainment purposes, only.

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Chapter One

The Portal Jumpers

_. . . And so the unlikely band of heroes proved triumphant in the battle against Peter Pan and rescued young Henry, before crossing to the Enchanted Forest. They learned of Balefire's survival, but that would be another journey—what was important now was Henry, and returning the boy safely home to Storybrooke. They still had yet to decide who would tell Belle that Rumple was lost._

_Regina, though redeemed through selfless actions, still wielded Dark magic, combined with Emma's magic—pure and Light—they were able to open a portal over the remains of the Wardrobe. For once, Cora had been a help, in that she'd left _just_ enough of the magickal tree's ashes behind for their efforts to open the way back to the non-magical world._

_Yet as strong as the pull of the energy was, the pathway was narrow, allowing passage of only a few at a time._

**This is where our story begins . . . .**

"Wait," Emma yelled over the thundering groan of the vortex, her hand tightening on Henry's shoulder as she met her mother's gaze. "We don't have anything to guide us—what'll happen to you if we end up outside of Storybrooke?"

Snow exchanged a glance with David, who nodded grimly. "That's a chance we'll have to take. At least we'll all be together."

Blue eyes rolled and narrowed from the back of the group. "Well, that's very sweet and touching," Hook called, tapping his most infamous appendage against his jaw, "but I'd like to remind you that portals don't stay open for very long."

Emma shot the pirate a withering look, which he met with a charming grin. There was still friction there—a friction that wasn't eased by their time together here. If anything, it made things more difficult, more . . . tense in a way that Emma purposely kept herself from being familiar with. Worse, everyone knew it.

But as frustrating as the handsome rogue could be, he had a point.

"Okay, so we focus on what we're going back to," David instructed, taking charge easily, as always came naturally for him. "Regina, go."

"What?" The former evil queen darted her gaze about the group, her dark eyes finally resting on Henry; clearly she'd thought she'd cross over with Henry and Emma. "Why?"

"You're the only one who can use magic to get a sense of where we're landing, if it's not Storybrooke. You'll be able to tell us when we join you, the more quickly we know, the more quickly we can form a plan, if necessary."

Frowning, she shook her head, tossing her dark hair. Even after everything, she still hated it when Prince Charming was right. "Fine, but . . . just in case." She ducked down, hugging Henry tightly and then pulling back to cup the boy's face in her hands. "I love you."

"I love you, too, mom," he said with an encouraging grin, proud that she'd finally made good on her promise to change.

Stepping away, she took a deep breath and leaped into the whirling pool of energy.

David instantly moved to follow, but Snow caught his hand. "Wait, no, we go together!"

He shook his head, his expression severe. "She may have changed, but there's a part of me that will never trust her. And if something goes wrong and we end up in different places . . . ." His attention shifted from his wife, to his daughter and his grandson, and then back to Snow's tear-filled blue eyes. "One of us has to be with them. It'll be alright, you always find me, remember?"

"I remember," she whispered, kissing him goodbye.

Emma looked away for a moment, allowing her parents what privacy she could, under the circumstances. She was somewhat surprised to find one black-leather clad pirate still behind them. Why hadn't he used all the sappiness as a distraction and slipped through the portal?

"Why haven't you gone through?" She kept her voice low, aware that Henry was listening.

Hook dropped his gaze to the floor, not wanting to show that he was feeling anything more than snarky discontent with the world around him. "Portals like this one aren't just about time. Each person that passes through diminishes some of its energy. We may not all make it through. I'm the one with the least to lose if I get stuck here, so . . . I go last."

Emma turned away to hug David, reclaiming her hold on Henry as her father stepped up to the portal and jumped through.

"I see Regina's not the only one who's changed," she said over her shoulder, guarding her expression, yet looking at a loss for what she might say next.

"Don't, lass," Hook quipped with a smirk. "I wouldn't want to start thinking better of myself, now."

Snow wound her arm around Henry as well, grasping his other shoulder. It was lucky none of them took up much room; they'd just be able to fit through together. As one, mother, daughter, and grandson stepped toward the portal.

Too late they saw the flash of green light pulse through the vortex.

"_Swan_," Hook shouted, running for the portal but something flew out, colliding with him and sending him crashing to the floor as the portal vanished.

* * *

"Stupid, men . . . stupid werewolves," Lydia corrected herself as she hiccupped, stumbling in her heels.

"You shouldn't drink when you're upset," Allison cautioned, reaching to help her best friend stand.

Waving a delicate, dismissive hand, Lydia struggled to her feet, frowning at the gash in her palm—that hadn't been there a second ago. Stupid sharp twigs, littering the ground of the Beacon Hills Preserve. "Oh, no, see, that is the _best_ time to drink!"

"You're not thinking clearly," the brunette tried again. So many ups and downs they'd been through, she was sure the couple would get through whatever this one was about, eventually, too.

"I don't want to think clearly, I always think clearly, and what good has it done me?"

The clearing of the Nemeton opened out before them and Lydia's sigh was audible. Already she could feel the energy of the tree reaching out to her, sympathizing with her. If it could, it would take her pain away.

Squinting against the light of an unusually bright half-moon, Allison asked, "Why did you want to come here?"

The petite strawberry blonde gave a serene grin as she took another sip from her wine bottle—only the best for a Lydia Martin drinking binge. "I just feel at peace here," she explained.

Allison could only frown as she followed Drinky McStumbles toward the massive tree stump. "Did . . . did Derek say why he was breaking up with you?"

"Yeah, 'cause my boyfriend . . ." Lydia grumbled incoherently at herself and took another swig, "_ex_-boyfriend, has always been a paragon of sparkling communication skills."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Allison placed a hand over her friend's, lowering the bottle. "Did he?"

Lydia pouted, falling into a sitting position on the stump. "Same thing he," she hiccupped, "always does. Some self-deprecating nonsense about how he's not good enough, and I deserve someone who never tried to kill me."

"He's on that again? That was years ago, and he thought you were the Kanima! That's _huge_ extenuating circumstance!"

It eased Lydia's pain a little to see her friend so upset on her behalf. "I know, but no matter how many times I try to remind him . . . ." She shrugged, shaking her head.

"You guys go through this every couple of months. He'll get over this bout of stupid, remember how much he loves you and you guys will be back together again." Allison carefully seated herself beside Lydia.

She pointedly refrained from glancing around. Scott was supposed to be bringing Derek, if they could just get these two in the same place, they could talk it out and get back together. Of course, Derek and Lydia weren't aware of the plan. Every time their relationship hit the rocks, it turned everyone's lives upside down. Why couldn't all break ups be as comparatively pleasant as her and Scott's?

"You know I've had my issues with Derek, but . . . he's a good guy, and you two have been great for each other."

"Nope, this is the end," Lydia whispered miserably, handing Allison the bottle. "He said he might even move away. Give us both space so we can get over each other."

"Move away?" Allison echoed, her eyebrows shooting up into her bangs. Well, that was drastic.

* * *

"What do you mean you're moving away?" Scott's voice rose in disbelief as he kept pace with Derek's fast, angry steps.

"I need to give her a chance to find somebody new, somebody . . . better," Derek added that last word in an angry whisper. "That's never going to happen if we're always around each other."

"So this is to give her closure and let her move on," Scott concluded, glancing sideways at the former alpha.

The taller man let out a heavy sigh, scowling. "Exactly."

"Or is it because you can't be around her without being _with_ her."

"I didn't come here to talk about Lydia," Derek reminded, irritation coloring his tone. "I came here because you said there was something wrong with the Neme—" Derek's eyes widened, a flash of bright blue flooding his irises.

"What?" Instantly Scott's eyes flared red as he took a deep breath, scenting the air—he was an alpha, but his senses were still no match for those of a natural-born werewolf.

"Lydia's here . . . and she's bleeding."

* * *

Allison pulled her hand away from the bottle, slick crimson coating her palm. ". . . Lydia . . . ?"

"Maybe he's right, you know, as long as we keep being around each other, this is going to keep happening." Lydia leaned back on her palms. "Maybe the only way is to separate us," she whispered mournfully to herself.

The Nemeton shuddered, and the girls turned in unison to look at the stump. A ripple of colored energy spiraled out from Lydia's bloody hand print.

"My God, Lydia!" Allison breathed the words in shock, shooting to her feet and grabbing her friend's wrist. "What have you done?"

Lydia sobered instantly, shaking her head. "I didn't do any—"

"Lydia!" Derek's voice cut through the clearing as the sound of the wolves' bodies crashing through the trees finally became audible to human ears.

The surface of the Nemeton's stump collapsed in on itself, yanking Lydia inside as a whirling pool of glittering purple and black yawned in its place.

Allison stared into what she could only describe as a vortex in utter disbelief. "Lydia!"

Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw Scott and Derek break the tree line, but she couldn't wait. This thing could stay open forever, or snap shut in a second, she had no clue what it was, or what fate might befall Lydia, but she wouldn't leave her to it alone.

"Find us," she shouted to the wolves, and then jumped in after her best friend.

Derek growled, his legs moving as fast as they could carry him. The pool vanished, leaving the weathered surface back in place, as though nothing had happened.

"_No_," he bellowed, dropping to his knees as he slammed a fist against the Nemeton.

As Scott reached him, a flash of green shot out from the stump, knocking them both backward.

Derek shook his head, scrambling to his feet immediately to find two very disoriented woman, and a young boy, standing atop the Nemeton. He and Scott exchanged a bewildered glance.

The blonde woman spoke, her grip tightening on the boy's shoulder. "Where are we?"

Growling, Derek stomped toward them, his eyes flashing blue. "_You_ don't get to ask questions. Who are you and what the _hell_ did you do with my girlfriend?"

* * *

Lydia barreled into something, but it cushioned her fall, so she couldn't complain too much. Giving her head a shake, she looked down to find herself staring into a pair of gorgeous, _human,_ bright blue eyes framed by thick, dark lashes.

"Oh," was all she could manage, as a loud thump beside her signaled Allison's arrival.

"As much as I enjoy being under a lovely, ginger-haired lass, such as yourself, you made quite a sharp impact. Could you kindly get off me?"

Lydia blinked, caught off-guard by the handsome stranger's charming accent. "Uh, sorry." She shared a look with Allison as the girls reached for each other's hands, assisting one another to their feet.

Allison warily eyed him as she pushed Lydia behind her—she didn't even realize she did things like that anymore, it was second nature now, since there was just something about Lydia that seemed to trigger a predatory side in men. Or maybe that was simply something between banshees and werewolves. Seeing as Lydia was the only banshee she knew, and most of the men in their lives _were_ werewolves, she had no way to be certain, but she wasn't willing to take any chances.

"Where are we?"

"Guessing from your style of dress, I'd say you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lydia asked as she pushed forward to stand beside Allison—she'd had it up to her eyeballs with everyone feeling they had to protect her all the time.

Allison instinctively reached for a weapon, drawing her ever-present bowie knife from her boot as she spotted the glint of silver in the dark-haired man's left hand.

He appeared completely unfazed by her threatening posture as he pushed up to stand, holding up his left . . . _appendage_ as he dusted himself off with his right hand. "My fair ladies, you stand in what was once Snow White's castle and I am Killian Jones," he flicked his left wrist, assuring himself that both women had seen _it_.

"But," he added as he offered them a cordial bow, "most people call me Captain Hook."

Allison lowered her blade, meeting Lydia's skeptical gaze.

"Either he's crazy . . ." the redhead began.

". . . Or we're a long way from home," her friend concluded.

"Well, I'm not crazy," Hook said with a wink.

"The assurance of a possibly crazy person isn't very comforting," Lydia quipped. Before she could feel good about regaining her wit, she noticed the charred and desiccated remnants of a tree behind him. "Wait . . . ."

"Lydia, what are you doing?" Allison raised her blade again, cautiously watching the pirate as the shorter woman crossed the room to kneel beside a long-dead tree stump.

Touching shaking fingers to the wood, Lydia trembled for a moment. "It's a Nemeton, a small one, but still . . . ." she murmured in explanation.

"So that's how we got here, right?"

Hook flicked his gaze from one young woman to the other and back. "My . . . companions are from your world. We were returning there when you barreled into me and separated me from them."

"Separated . . ." Lydia repeated in a whisper, looking at her bloody hand. "I know what happened, I just don't know how, exactly." Ignoring Hook for a moment, Lydia returned to Allison's side. "Just before we, um, fell through, I said I thought the only solution for me and Derek would be to separate us. I think the Nemeton was trying to help me."

"Well, okay," Allison said brightly—wasn't that supposed to be good news? "Can't we use this one to get back, then?"

Lydia bit her lip, shaking her head as she dropped her gaze to the floor. "No, this one is dead. Completely drained, like touching a corpse."

Clamping a hand over her friend's shoulder, Allison tried to remain hopeful. "So we'll find another one."

"Nemeton? Is that what you call trees like this where you're from?" The charming British drawl chimed in.

"You could say that," Lydia responded with an exasperated sigh.

"Well, good luck with that, since that was a tree spelled by a fairy, and they're _quite_ few and far between, even in these realms."

The girls turned to him in unison, a look of horrified realization dawning in their eyes. "So we're . . . really in Snow White's castle?" The brunette asked, her voice weak.

He nodded, offering a mirthless, tight-lipped grin.

"And you're really," the redhead paused as she took a step toward him, pointing at the curved length of silver protruding from his wrist, "Captain Hook?"

Again, he nodded, holding up the hook for show.

Lydia's fingers twitched, seemingly unable to help herself as she reached out. "Can I touch it?"

A wicked smirk tugged up the corner of Hook's mouth as he shrugged, "Well—"

"Lydia," Allison snapped, placing herself between them and slapping her friend's hand out of the air.

Lydia squeaked, covering her hand and scowling. "I'm just trying to affirm for myself that this is, in fact, real. I mean, hello? You're a werewolf hunter, and I'm a banshee, who's to say that Captain Hook _isn't _real?"

"Standing right here," he said, sounding mildly affronted. "And a banshee, really?" Hook stepped around Allison, to capture Lydia's gaze. "I thought they were a myth."

"So the fairy tale villain thinks _I'm_ a myth? Fantastic."

"Hardly a villain, I'm . . . reformed."

"Sure you are," Allison said with a sigh, already tired of trying to keep the two apart. He was almost as bad as Peter, who _still _approached Lydia like a jungle cat stalking prey.

"Allow me to prove it," he said, placing his hand over his heart.

The girls exchanged a glance. "How?" They asked simultaneously.

"I may not know where another . . . _Nemeton_ is, but there are other ways to open a portal to your world, we just have to find one."

"You don't even know us, so you can't possibly care if we think you're reformed, or not," Lydia observed, defiantly lifting her chin. "So what is it you want in exchange for helping us?

"I cross with you. There's nothing for me in these realms, and the only people left who think anything of me are now in the world to which you're trying to return."

Allison wasn't sure she liked the idea of trusting Captain Hook—or even someone who simply _thought_ he was Captain Hook. "We don't need your help."

Hook nodded, turning on a heel and strolling toward the door. "Of course not, I only actually know these lands, and where to find things, and it's not as through creating portals to your world is _simple_. In fact, it might be close to impossible. I can't imagine why you'd need me."

Lydia groaned, green eyes rolling. "Wait."

His steps halted, and he bowed his head, hiding a grin.

"Lydia," Allison whispered, her tone cautionary.

Shaking her head, Lydia gently grabbed her friend's upper arm. "Okay, to review, werewolf hunter, banshee," she gestured back toward the destroyed tree, "magickal fairy tree in Snow White's castle. I don't care if he says he's Santa Claus, we're not going to be able to do this on our own. We haven't got a clue where to start."

"Fine." Allison finally relented with a short nod; she had told Scott and Derek to find them, and she had faith in their friends, but she'd had no idea how _very _far from home she and Lydia would find themselves when she'd said that.

Lydia nodded back, relinquishing her hold on Allison and approaching Hook. "You help us find a way home, and you can go with us." She leaned close, speaking in his ear, but kept her voice just loud enough for Allison to hear. "But don't think for a second that we _trust_ you."

Hook's smile only grew as the small woman shouldered past him and headed through the doorway. "You remind me of someone," he murmured a moment before following her.

Brown eyes narrowing, Allison kept her blade at the ready as she trailed behind Hook, her footsteps silent. She knew she'd fallen into hunter-mode, but she couldn't help herself, if he touched one strawberry-blonde hair, she'd kill him.

"My, this feels familiar," he quipped.


End file.
